


Lucky Me

by daisiesonice



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, Size Kink, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisiesonice/pseuds/daisiesonice
Summary: Vax sneaks out one night on a job for the Clasp and finds a rundown man at a rundown bar in Syngorn.The car bumped along the road. It was a busted up Cadillac with mud on the wheels, protein bar wrappers in the backseats, and a shitty radio. Vax loved it. They were getting to the outskirts of Syngorn, away from the stuffy fucking elves and financial insecurity and Clasp business and his dickwad of a father.He had never felt more alive.“I think I’m gonna puke,” Vax said.





	Lucky Me

**Author's Note:**

> This happened after 109 happened. I didn't even ship them before. I go back to uni soon, I broke my phone yesterday, and my dog is ignoring me because I wouldn’t give him peanut butter. Save me.

Vax was cold. His arse was bare to the world, and the world bared down on him through morning radio, rain, and leg cramp.

He turned his head. Ah. That was not a pillow. This was not his bed. He was on a small loveseat, resting his banging head on a comfortable, well-muscled chest.

A gun cocked against his skull. He heard a voice say, “So, what are The Clasp up to this time?” 

And with that everything started rushing back.

* * *

 

Picking locks was one of the few things Vax prided himself on. It wasn’t a skill he could brag about, though, not if he wanted to actually stick around. But, at least he knew he could get out of the house, one way or another.

Sometimes he thought about packing all his shit, grabbing his sister, and getting the fuck out of dodge. But they had no money. And Vex was good at learning; she deserved an education. Their… father could give her that. Vax could only teach her how to stay in the shadows, out of trouble, and even then neither of them were that good at it. Trouble creept up on them. Like a cold in winter. Or a text from The Clasp at 10pm on a Saturday night. Or bouncers in rundown bars.

“Hey, you’re a bit young to be hanging out in a place like this.”

A rather short and stocky woman; someone Vax didn’t want on his bad side. He showed his ID. “Just turned of age last month. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Alright, kid. Have a good night. Don’t drink too much.” She marched back to her spot at the front door.

Vax raised his glass in a half-hearted toast and fidgeted on the bar stool. It was a rickety old thing, much like the bartender, who was engaging in clichéd behaviour – wiping the same glass for an extended period of time – probably to make up for his unconventional appearance; white hair, glasses,  and pale skin.

“How’d you like the whiskey?” the bartender asked. And, as he moved closer in the dim lighting, Vax saw the face of a young man, unweathered by time yet undeniably troubled.

“It’s good.”

He nodded. “We just got it in today. Might if I ask how you got here? You’re not our usual sort, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I was just wandering around and found this place, I guess.” Vax shrugged.

The bartender left him alone after that. Clearly, neither of them were in the mood for small talk.

The bar, _The Laughing Cow_ , had a currently unused stage, a cactus in one corner, and customers; all of who looked like they wanted a drink as badly as the bar needed a makeover.

There was a small crowd around one table to his left. Vax looked over his shoulder, craning his neck, and saw a man just as bulky as the bouncer, if not more, and covered in tribal tattoos. His elbow was on the table, a huge grin was on his face, and his opponent looked like they'd rather be facing down a dragon. 

“That’s Grog. He’s a regular,” the bartender said, “Don’t piss him off and you’ll be fine.”

So, that was Grog. Vax frowned. “Hey. I’m not here to make trouble.”

“Alright, then,” he said, going back to wiping the cups.

Damn. Did he look that rough? Sure, Vax had been wearing the same black jacket for a couple of days, his combat boots had some mud, but his tattoo was hidden away and his hair looked decent-

“It’s the black eye,” the bartender explained.

Vax put his drink down. “Oh. I forgot about that.”

“You forgot you have a black eye?”

“Yeah.”

The bar – hm. It was annoying to just keep calling him that. Whitey smirked. “Maybe I should cut you off.”

Vax scoffed. “I’m not that drunk. Not yet.”

Behind him, Grog slammed his opponent’s hand to the table. Cheers erupted and, for a moment, Vax feared the single glazed windows would shatter. Whitey put down his glass to clap with them, albeit golf clapping, while the bouncer whooped loudly.

Grog’s next opponent was a short woman, shorter than the bouncer, with bleached blonde hair and a personality as tall as the ceiling. “Come on, Grog! It’s time for a rematch!” she said, smacking her fist on the table.

“Fuck, yeah! Let’s do it.”

Vax turned around to watch the show. The young woman grinned, took Grog’s hand, and their tense battle began. Their muscles strained. Their skin turned red. Grog’s grin grew stronger with every moment of struggle. People were banging on tables, betting, cheering on their favourite: like it was all a regular occurrence. Some cheered for Grog, some for Pike.

The bar grew quiet.

Pike shouted, “Argh!” and finally pushed her opponent’s much bigger hand down.

Grog laughed. “You’re a monster, Pike!”

She jumped up on the table and declared her victory. Grog patted her on the back. The crowd quietened down as money was handed over.

While Whitey was busy handling a customer on the other side of the bar, Vax checked his phone.

 

_(10:00) Raven, you’re on info duty tonight. Get to The Laughing Cow by 11. Grog (fighter – The Herd) should be there. If not, find him._

_(11:15) Do not engage target. Info only._

_(11:17) I’m not an idiot._

_(11:18) Don’t get caught._

_(11:18) What sort of info are we talking about here? So far I know he’s a regular, likes arm wrestling and knows a tough chick called Pike._

_(11:20) Anything you can get. Favourite drink, dick size, why The Herd are in our territory, Kevdak’s heir. Anything._

_(11:22) This guy doesn’t look like the mysterious type. Am I missing something here?_

_(11:24) The last two guys I sent ended up half dead in an alley. He fucked the woman I sent and she couldn’t tell me shit the next day._

_(11:25) You already know his dick size, then._

_(11:25) Fuck off._

Vax hated his job sometimes. But fucking with Garthok made the days bearable.

He sighed and rubbed his head. The Herd was trouble. He saw Kevdak - the gang’s leader - once. Kevdak was a huge guy, fond of beating up anyone in his way (including his own gang members) and mostly worked in weapons trading and smuggling, though protection and intimidation were also strong skills in his repertoire.

There’d been a meeting, just a small thing, when Kevdak showed up in Syngorn a month ago. Vax hid in the shadows, unseen in the chaos as Kevdak announced he was in town to settle some personal business and if The Clasp got on his toes, then he’d cut off their heads, put them on spears, and roast them like marshmallows.

Garthok believed him. Hell, Vax believed him, but he saw Kevdak’s men flinch with every threat and knew something was up. Not that he knew what it was, exactly.

Still, if Grog had some answers then Vax would get some cash. And every bit counted towards their savings. Anything to get his sister out faster was good by him.

“Hey, give the big guy a drink on me,” Vax said, putting away his phone.

“Sure.” Whitey grabbed a beer bottle and poured it into a uniquely large glass. “He’ll appreciate it, but, er… You’re not his usual type, you know?”

Vax blinked.

Oh.

Whatever, he could work with that misunderstanding. “He’s not my usual sort either. But, damn, I can’t ignore arms like that.”

Whitey looked at Grog, who was currently shoving a whole sandwich into his mouth, and nodded. “Each to their own.”

Whitey took the drink over. Vax sighed. It was a start. Info gathering was always a long slog, especially with big shots who knew better than to trust a random guy at a bar. Vax hoped for a lucky break.

* * *

 

He was one lucky mother fucker.

Not only was Grog a friendly drunk, he was an emotional drunk.

They sat at the bar together, Grog leaning forward on his elbows and nearly falling off the stool. Vax listened to the pouring rain and his new friend’s drunken ramblings.

“It’s just so, you know? Pike’s goin’ church and Scanlan-,” he said, pausing to burp, “Scanlan went off somewhere and I dunno what the fuck I’m doin’, Vax.”

“That’s rough, man.” Vax poured him another drink. And, honestly, he did feel a little bit of sympathy for the big guy.

“I dunno if we’re doing the right thing. Like, I don’t give a shit. I’ll fight anyone. But, like, it’s no fun if they can’t fight back. Pike’s the only one who can keep up with me.”

“She’s a tough cookie.” Vax sipped his drink. “How’d you meet, anyway?”

Real smooth. Grog didn’t seem to notice. “She follows Sarenrayray. Sarenrae. The healy one. We were in Westrunn, yeah? And Kevdak was like ‘oh, we should go pillage a temple like the good old days’ and I was like ‘We should go to Kord’s.’ ‘Cause everyone there is a fucking fighter. Could’ve had a great time. But nah. Kevdak wanted a show. Wanted to show off.”

“Bet he was scared to lose, huh?”

“Maybe. But after I said that Kevdak said I was being a pussy, so I went along with it. We got to the temple and it’s only tiny thing.”

Vax nodded, even though he had never been to Westrunn in his life and could remember nothing about the goddess. He’d look into that later. Or tell Garthok and have him deal with it. 

“And we went in. There was this old guy there, just sittin’ at the back. Only one in there. He said Sarenrae would heal us and red – uh… something. And Kevdak laughed. Started knocking over seats. I found the wine and drank that. The guys was smashing windows and doors and shit.”

Vax patted his arm, waiting for more useful details.

“Then Kevdak started beating up the old guy. And I thought ‘That ain’t right. What’s an old man gonna do?’ So, I told ‘em to stop. The old man ran off. I woke up and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, an’ everyone was gone.”

“They beat you up for protecting someone?”

“Yeah. Kevdak’s a dick.”

He scratched his head and asked, “So, where does Pike come into this?”

“Oh, yeah. That old guy was her granddad. She healed me up. Then I left. I wandered ‘round for a bit. Found out this city needed some guys for hire and yeah. Pike’s here for some festival thing.” He added, proudly, “I make shoes too.”

Vax’s thoughts skidded to a halt. “So, you’re not part of the gang anymore?”

“Nah, fuck them.”

Shit. “How long ago was this?”

Grog looked at his fingers. “Er. One? No. Two months ago, I think.”

Double shit. “Why’d you come to Syngorn then? Was it just for work, I mean? There are other places for that.”

“Yeah. But Kevdak don’t like this place.”

“Grog… Listen, I-“

“The worst thing is I thought he’d be better than my dad. But he’s not. He’s just another fucking asshole. And now my cousin’s next and he’s a useless pile of shit.”

Vax chugged the last of his drink, very aware of Whitey’s less than subtle (well, subtle for the average person. Vax just noticed that sort of thing) suspicious looks. “Kevdak’s your uncle.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Same.”

Vax gave Whitey more money, and enjoy his new, stronger whiskey. “Alright, so. Kevdak’s got a reason for not liking this city, ok? It’s a Clasp beehive. You’re better off somewhere else.”

“I thought they were everywhere? ‘Sides, they never gave us trouble before.”

No, because Kevdak’s weapon dealing didn’t affect their profits. If Vax’s hunch was right, then Kevdak had an internal bomb brewing and The Clasp wanted none of that at their door.

He let Grog settle into a different topic. Apparently, he lived near the Salt Lick Lake in a cabin, spent his days as a cobbler, his nights as the best mercenary in the area, and his best friend was Pike Trickfoot, who was the best thing to happen to the world since man discovered bacon.

“I think it’s time we got you home,” Vax told him.

“My break’s in half an hour,” Whitey said, “I’ll drive him.”

Grog slapped Vax on the back. Hard. “Alright. We’re going to my place to watch the match.”

“Um?” he said, winded.

“The wrestling!” Grog shouted, getting up from the stool.

“I believe I’m familiar with the sport, yes.”

* * *

 

Vax had seen wrestling before on TV. Years ago, curled up on the sofa between his sister and mother, a small lamp and the screen lit up the room as the wrestlers put on a show. Mother thought it was silly; all those muscled men in crazy outfits, shouting catch phrases, but all the other boys at school talked about it.

Vex enjoyed wrestling more than he did. He stopped paying attention to it years ago. 

“My name’s Percy, by the way,” Whitey said, turning Grog’s car left.

He supposed Whitey and Grog were close, if carpooling was a regular occurrence, which was all the worse for Vax, because Whitey would figure him out eventually. That’d be bad.

Gods, he was tipsy.

The car bumped along the road. It was a busted up Cadillac, mud on the wheels, protein bar wrappers in the backseats, and a static radio. Vax loved it. They were getting to the outskirts of the city, away from the stuffy fucking elves and financial insecurity and his dickwad of a father.

He had never felt more alive.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” Vax said.

He opened the window, put his head out, and let the wind sober him up.

“You look like a dog.” Whitey chuckled.

Vax gave him the finger.

 

The Salt Lick Lake wasn’t far from the mountain range, but Vax couldn’t seem them in the building fog and dark night. Old headlights and older lampposts lit up the road revealing worn cement with one too many pot holes to be safe, but Vax’s eyes were on Grog.

The big man was rocking out to the radio, singing to himself, tapping his foot, head banging.

Oh, fuck. Nope. Nope.

To stop his brain going where he knew it was going, Vax got out his phone.

_(01:04) Won’t be coming back tonight, sis. Love u xx_

_(01:05) USE PROTECTION_

_(12:30) Raven, I want a report. Any time soon would be fucking great._

_(01:06) Keep an eye on P Trickfoot. G is K’s nephew and left h after a fight._

_(01:07) Trickfoot? She’s a healer. Helped some of our guys down in Westrunn before. They’re not gonna like this. Alright, I’ll look into it._

_(01:08) G lives by the lake. Heading their now with some guy Whitey. Tell u more in the morning._

_(01:09) Who the fuck is Whitey?_

_(01:10) Whatever, just stay out of trouble. Get more if poss_

Yeah, getting more info was not that easy. To get anything more, he’d have to buy Grog dinner and suck his dick. Now, there was an idea.

The car hit a hard speed bump and Vax’s stomach left his body. His ‘genius’ plot was lost to the wayside.

“We’re almost there,” Whitey said, “We’ll get you some water. You’ll be fine.”

Vax saw Grog roll his eyes in the rear view mirror. “Fucking elves. Can’t handle a drop of booze.”

“You’re just not normal, big man.”

“Very true,” Whitey agreed. “But is it normal to go with two strangers to a cabin in the woods in the middle of the night?”

“Stop calling me out on my shit and drive,” he replied, smirking.

“As long as you know you’re the real weird one here, then my work here is done.”

Grog squinted. “But you still have to drive us.”

“Driving you home isn’t work, Grog, it’s a pleasure.”

Debatable. Vax asked, “Are we there yet?”

“Yes,” Whitey said.

Vax looked out of the window. The lake shimmered in the dim light. No house in sight. Whitey was a piece of shit, Grog was a piece of shit, and damn they were the best people he had met on a job for the Clasp. By far.

“The other window, idiot,” Grog said, laughing.

And, indeed, there was Grog’s cabin in all its simple glory; made of logs from the surrounding forest, brown shingles, and a good dose of blood, sweat, and tears. A small flight of stairs led up to the front door, to the left was a log chopping block held a large axe, and to the right was an appealing pizza oven.

“Maybe this is the alcohol talking, but this place looks great.” Vax opened the car door, stumbled, and began the trek up to the cabin. The mud was nowhere near as bad as it looked, though the lack of squelching noises was disappointing, the few crunchy leaves under his boots made up for it. “My sister would love this place.”

“Oh, you have a sister?” Whitey asked, unlocking the front door.

“Yeah. She’s great. Hope you never meet her. She’ll rob you a guy like you blind.”

“What makes you think I have money?”

 Vax didn’t bother replying to that. The asshole was playing devil’s advocate. 

 

Inside, the cabin was just as cosy as Vax had imagined. Vax was in the front entrance, but it looked mostly open plan. A loveseat leather sofa faced the wall, covered in cushions, next to a wooden coffee table with one too many cups left behind to be called tidy, one red rug lined the floor (of course Whitey would want a red carpet), and on a sideboard against the nearest wall there was a few pictures of Grog, Whitey, Pike, and people he didn’t recognise.

 “Nice place,” he said, taking off his boots.

Grog lounged on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, soda can in one hand, remote in the other. Whitey wandered off to the kitchen, mumbling to himself.

“Get your ass over here,” Grog said, waving the remove at him.

Percy walked in, threw Vax a can, and sat down next to Grog. Luckily, Vax caught the can. He wasn’t that drunk. But no amount of luck could make the sofa bigger, and he wasn’t about to squeeze between them or sit on their laps. Even if Grog’s thighs did look like the best cushions ever.

Instead, he sat between them on the floor, opened his Pepsi, and tried to get comfortable.

On screen, two incredibly buff men (very buff: like they spent at least 5 hours a day doing CrossFit, drank Vax’s weight in protein powder every morning, and ate raw eggs for dinner) were in the arena, facing each other down and riling up the audience.

Some of the one liners were pretty stupid. Who would even say ‘I’m coming for you, fuck stick?’ Big wrestlers, apparently.

“Five bucks on the orc guy,” Whitey said.

Grog sniffed. “I could take him.”

“I’d bet, but I got no cash,” Vax said.

“It’s no fun without money involved.” He sighed. “I have no investment in it, otherwise.”

“Alright. I bet my boots that the orc loses. How about that?”

Whitey chuckled. “Your boots. Why would I want them?”

“They’re a prized possession. Guaranteed to make you sneaky.”

He considered it.

Grog shook his head. “Percy doesn’t need to be sneaky. He talks his way out of everythin.’”

“True. I’ll pass on the boots, I think. But I’d like to know how you got that black eye.”

“Sure. And you’ll tell me how you met this big guy, how about that?”

“Sounds fair.”

 

The orc fought hard. Grog cheered for every fancy move (simple daggers, Vax thought, were so much more efficient than an over the top leg drop. But whatever floats your boat), and was getting increasingly hype as the show went on.

Whitey, meanwhile, was furiously typing on his phone.

“Everything alright there, buddy? Not getting panicky about our bet, are you?” Vax asked.

“Not at all. But I am panicking about my lovely younger sister, who has decided to set me up on a blind coffee date.” Whitey pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. 

“Good luck. Make sure to pay the bill,” Vax advised, thinking of his own sister.

“Good god. She’s says it’s at 10am. I’m barely functioning at 11. This is a disaster and it hasn’t even happened yet.

Grog patted his shoulder. “Go, take my bed. Sober up.”

Whitey softened. “That’s really ki-“

“I want free drinks for a week.”

“I should’ve known,” he grumbled, “Alright, fine. But you have to tell Kima, not me.”

“Sure, she likes me.”

As Whitey left, he gave a Vax one of those ‘don’t do anything troublesome’ looks. He’d seen a lot of those looks in his lifetime (from the police, his father, his sister, gang higher-ups, and random fruit sellers at the market), but never from a guy who looked like he could cause just as much trouble, albeit in a different way.

“We’ll be fine. Grog can defend himself against little ol’ me, can’t you, big guy?” Vax nudged his knee. 

“I could beat you into a pile of mush,” he confirmed.

“See?” Ah, to be underestimated. 

Grog’s strength shouldn’t have been that appealing. It was a terrible idea. It wouldn’t come to anything good, especially since Grog was the classic cardboard cut out of straight bro beard guy. This didn’t stop Vax from leaning against the guy’s leg, but hey, he’d be a fool not to enjoy the moment.

As the adverts droned on (so many cereal ads. Why? Dear gods, why had advertising put so many cereals back to back?), Vax found himself slipping into comfort. The floor was oddly comfortable, Grog’s leg was a great pillow, and he was getting to the tipsy-sleepy stage of their alcohol adventure.

“How did you get that black eye, then?” Grog asked, like he was after a bed time story.

He hesitated. “It’s not that good of a story.”

“What’s the other guy look like, then?”

Dead. “He won’t be moving any time soon.”

“Nice. Tougher than you look, huh?”

Vax grinned. “Bet I could take you in a fight.”

Grog patted his head. “Sure you could.”

Vax glared. He punched Grog’s leg, was about to flip up and kick him in the face, but Grog reacted quickly. The big guy grabbed his head, shoved him between his legs, and forced him to look at the TV screen.

“Shh. Tryin’ to watch,” Grog said. His grip on Vax’s hair loosened, though his fingers were still tangled in.

Vax leaned on Grog’s inner thigh. The big guy relaxed a little more, and started rubbing his head, occasionally tugging on his hair.

“Fucking soft… What the hell?”

“I look after my hair. Just like how you look after that beard of yours.” Vax turned his head, looking up.

Grog pushed his chin forward and displayed his rather fantastic beard. Vax reached up, and yes, the beard felt just as majestic as it looked.

“You could win competitions with that thing, I swear,” Vax said.

“That’s what she said.”

Grog broke down in a childish fit of giggles. He didn’t bother to cover his mouth, so Vax got a decent look at Grog’s annoyingly perfect teeth (he thought the big man would have at least one filling, fucking hell) and his mind filled with fantasises of biting those lips.

He stopped thinking.

Vax twisted around, face to face with Grog’s belt buckle, and gripped the belt loops with eager fingers. “I wanna know if you dick is as big as you act like it is.”

Grog patted his hair, looking amused. “You’re not drunk, if you can get through saying that.”

He frowned and tugged on the belt loops. “What, don’t think you can get it up?”

“I’m not gay."

Vax licked his lips. Alright. Alright. He’d just have to find another big guy with a beard and tattoos and fucking dimples. Guys like that were a rare occurrence in Syngorn. But, he’d live.

“Alright, big man. Whatever you want.”

The tight grip on his hair didn’t loosen.

“Grog?”

“You look good right there.” Grog pushed his face closer, ‘til Vax’s nose was nearly touching his zipper.

Vax took the zip into his mouth and slowly pulled it down.

“Nice party trick.”

“Tough crowd tonight,” Vax muttered. He took off Grog’s belt, then waited just a moment. Just long enough to give Grog another chance to back out.

Grog got tired of waiting. He lifted his hips, pulled his jeans down his thighs, then let Vax take them down to the floor. He left the boxers on, for the time being.

He eagerly returned to Grog’s thighs, leaving kisses and lingering touches.

“Fuckin’ tease.”

He bit Grog’s inner thigh and enjoyed the sharp intake of breath that shortly followed. He licked the bite mark and stroked Grog’s erection, much lighter than he really wanted to.

Impatient and confused (clearly the big man did not amuse himself often with foreplay), Grog went to take off his underwear. Oh, no. He wasn’t having that.

He snatched Grog’s hand and sucked on the index finger, moving his head and using his tongue to really make a point.

The point flew right over Grog’s head. “That’s not my dick.”

Vax took a second finger into his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

“Still not my dick.”

He removed the fingers – reluctantly – and sighed. “What kind of blow jobs have you had before?”

“Blow job is a blow job. Gets the job done.”

“Alright. Let’s just say I work differently and go from there.”

Grog shrugged, but he couldn’t hide how tense he was, how held Vax completely in place. It was a big ego boost: how much the teasing was affecting him. Vax played with the waistband of Grog’s boxers, kissing and touching just enough to drive the big guy crazier.

“Have some patience,” he said, slowly pulling the underwear down. Vax did his best not to stare, he really did. But some things are impossible. "Well, that’s…” Vax hesitated. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re, er, big?”

The length was… manageable. The thickness, however, that was a different story.

“Yeah. Know how to use it too,” he replied, sounding particularly proud of himself.

Gods, he wanted to take that ego down a peg or two. But he also wanted Grog to lose his patience, throw him on the table, and fuck him. The contradiction was real. Maybe there was a way to do both.

“Do you have any lube?” Vax asked, checking his own pockets quickly just in case. Nope. He hadn’t been prepared for this. “Any condoms?”

“Er, yeah, in the-“ He pointed to the cupboard, under the TV.

Vax patted Grog’s knee and got up. The big guy let him go. Good. It’d be terrible end to the evening if Vax had to kick him in the balls and leave him half dead on his sofa.

He walked over to the cupboard, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He dumped it on the coffee table. Grog was definitely staring at him. He looked back. Just to be sure. Yes. OK. Good. Vax bent down, opened the cupboard, immediately spotted the convenient supply of protection and lube - water based, good brand; that'd work – but spent one long moment pondering, making sure his ass was well on display.

It was not subtle. It was a thousand feet away from being subtle. But Vax knew it was the only sort of tactic that would impact his new acquaintance.

“Get over here.”

Bingo.

Vax knelt back down. Grog grabbed his hair again and pulled him closer. He looked up at Grog, smiling. “You’re really not used to waiting, are you?”

He tore open the condom packet with his teeth, placed it in his mouth and rolled it down the tip of Grog’s dick. He took pity on Grog and uncapped the bottle of lube. He put a little (just a little. Not enough to get Grog’s hopes up. Not yet) on his hand and stroked the rest of the condom down. Of course, he had sympathy. But he also had found a weakness to the strongest guy he had ever fucking seen, and gods, he was going to exploit that weakness until neither of them had anything left to give.

He sucked on the tip, but went no deeper. His hand kept closest to the base, and he found using his thumb to trail up and down in teasing circles added to the ultimately maddening experience. For both of them, really.

But Grog lost it first. He got his hands on the back of Vax’s head and forced him down further. Vax got a few inches down before he gagged. As expected, his gag reflex wasn’t going to magically become better than average without practice.

No time like the present.

Vax used his hand for the rest of it and began a slow rhythm, testing out how far he could go and what Grog liked – pretty much anything – before pushing his limits. Each time he went a little bit further. He clenched his fist tight, breathed through his nose, and grinded his hips in the air; his erection brushing against the fabric of his underwear did nothing to slow the building pressure.

Spit dripped down his chin, but he couldn’t stop. He thought about it, he did, he thought about taking off his jeans and getting on Grog’s lap and taking him, fuck the consequences, but hearing Grog moan made him think twice about doing something so reckless.

Though making the big guy wait was probably reckless too, and driving them both crazy with every passing second.

“Gonna make yourself choke." But, Grog didn’t make him stop. If anything, he sounded needy.

Vax moaned and tried to go further, but he hit his limit. He groaned, frustrated, and Grog’s head lolled back. He closed his eyes and imagined he what it’d be like to hold onto Grog’s shoulders, ride his cock, have the big guy bite at his neck ‘til it was covered in marks, so the next time he saw Kevdak he could say ‘your nephew has a bigger dick than you, I guarantee it’, and have everyone know exactly who fucked him so hard he turned up to work with a sore ass.

He grabbed the lube again, fumbled with his belt, and got to work. Shit, it had been a while. And he was getting sloppy; not that Grog seemed to mind. All his focus faded away as he pushed a finger inside, and felt Grog looking at him again.

“Holy shit,” Grog said. He tugged at Vax’s hair. Vax tried to fight back, grabbing his wrists and sucking hard before being pulled off.

He pushed in a second finger and stretched, glaring at Grog all the while.

Grog asked, “Do I get to fuck you or what?”

“Why in such a hurry? You cum fast?”

Vax’s face was flushed and he was leaking pre-cum and he was much, much closer than Grog, and his dick hadn’t even been touched yet.

Even Grog, oblivious as he was, picked up on the hypocrisy of that question, and scoffed. “Sure.”

Three fingers wasn’t enough to be properly prepared. He wondered if it was even possible to be prepared for Grog’s dick.

“Get up here,” Grog said.

Vax sat in his lap, hovering above his dick, breathing heavily. He held onto Grog’s shoulders and steadied himself.

That’s when Grog shoved two fingers up his ass and bit his neck.

“Fuck! Give me some fucking warning, bastard,” Vax complained.

Grog’s fingers were thicker than his, and he was far more brutal. He moved his fingers like he was actually fucking his ass, not just stretching him out. And, shit, when Vax closed his eyes he could easily pretend it was Grog’s cock inside him instead. Grog was still holding onto his hair, too. He clenched down and grinded-

“Lube,” Grog said.

The lube was on the floor. Right. “Hold onto me.”

Grog was ~~slightly~~ very reluctant to let go of his hair, but eventually held onto waist instead. This arrangement was temporary and not preferable. To both of them. 

Vax bent backwards. His hair dangled to the floor, spreading across the rug. He turned his head to the side, and saw the lube was easily within reach. He grabbed it, clenched down on Grog’s fingers, and was just about to pull himself back up when Grog pulled another surprise.

He curled his fingers.

Vax dropped the lube and felt stars burst in his head. Distantly, he felt his head hit the floor and his arms go limp. 

“There?” Grog asked, thoroughly exploring. 

Vax replied, “Uh?”

“Fuckin’ hell… Come on, up you get,” Grog said, smacking his thigh for good measure.

Vax managed to grab onto the lube as he came to grips with his latest kink discovery: Grog. Grog literally doing anything to his body.

Grog pulled him up with ease. He needed to work out more. Like, he needed to go to the same gym as Grog and watch him bench press. For research purposes.

“Now you’re just showing off.”

“Yeah, like you weren’t.”

Fair point, not that he’d admit it out loud. “You still wanna do this, then?”

“No, my dick is out for no reason.”

Fucking sarcastic bastard. Vax rolled his eyes. “So. If you don’t like it just say ‘stop’ and we will. I expect you to give me the same respect, ok?”

“You won’t want to stop.”

Vax grinned. “Sure, big guy. Whatever you say.” 

“Turn around, then.”

His smile faltered. “Huh? You don’t want it like this?”

Grog flipped him around. Seriously, the manhandling was getting out of hand and he really shouldn’t like it so much. “Ads are done.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Grog grabbed the remote and turned the sound up. He held Vax against his chest, so he couldn’t squirm away.

Vax punched his arm just to vent his frustration. It was ineffective. Then, he noticed Grog’s dick was right there. Very close to his ass. “Oh.”

Grog handed him the bottle. “Knock yourself out.”

He clenched his teeth. Smug bastard. Still, he added more lube and ignored the wrestling commentary.

“You won’t be able to focus on that for long, big guy,” Vax said and lowered himself down.

Vax went slow. As much as he’d like to get on Grog’s dick and ride him so fast he wouldn’t even think about the TV, there were certain things to keep in mind. Like not hurting himself. Also, making Grog wait just that bit longer. No matter how much the big guy stared at the screen, he was still clinging to Vax, tense. Waiting.

Grog played with the ends of his hair.

Vax gulped. He moved down, just a bit more. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He curled a strand of Vax’s hair around his finger. “Could get off just like this. Fuckin’ tight.”

“Never fucked a woman up the ass before?” he asked, voice more breathless than he’d like.

“Nah,” Grog said, letting go of his hair and choosing to explore Vax’s chest instead, “Never wanted to.”

“Lucky me.” That came out more sincere than intended. Distracting himself wasn’t going to work, was it? He sighed. Tried to relax. Then Grog pinched his nipple and, once again, his plan was ruined. “I hate you.” Although, he did feel more relaxed with Grog’s fantastic distractions, it was a point of pride not to admit it.

“Ahuh.”

He glanced up at the TV screen and frowned. Motivated, Vax moved, and instantly wondered how in the flying fuck he was going to survive. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. Fuck, he’d never been fuller.

“Don’t you fucking leave me now,” Grog snapped, “Thought you could keep up with me.”

“How about you try and keep up with me?”

The back talk was going to catch up with him eventually, but for now Grog seemed happy enough to let him bullshit and take the lead. Vax started slow. It wasn’t painful, even though the stretch was overwhelming and he could barely breathe and Grog was still watching the fucking TV. He was going to smash that thing.

He reached up, hand unsteady, and dug his nails into the back of Grog’s neck. “You better fuck me already.”

“You’re doing fine all on your own, elf.” He rolled Vax’s nipple between his fingers.

Vax clenched down and snarled. “Thanks, dildo.”

Grog finally allowed some of his attention to stray from the TV and finally fucking moved. Sadly, he was only moving in time with Vax. Slow and deep. When he tried to speed things up, Grog held him down.

So, Vax chose rebellion and stopped moving altogether. He stroked his dick and moaned, embarrassingly loud. He thought about begging, but he wasn’t that far gone just yet. He’d push Grog to breaking point first.

“Motherfucker.”

Grog was the best butt plug in the continent, Vax was sure of it; he had never been more certain of anything in his life. But it was so hard to stay still. Vax rolled his hips ever so slightly – fuck, there – gods, Grog’s dick just hit every spot without any effort on his part. Unfair.

“Should just push you off and fuck you on the carpet,” he grumbled.

“But, you – ah, shit – you couldn’t see the TV if you did that.”

“Fuck the TV.” Finally. “But what if I don’t wanna give you the satisfaction?”

“Bastard,” Vax said, “Fuck me right now or I’ll shave off your stupid fucking beard.”

Grog grabbed Vax’s clean shaven jaw. “Jealous?”

“Only if you’re jealous of my hair.”

He was proud of that line, especially since he was getting closer and closer. Grog touched his hair, gentle, as if thinking about something. He couldn’t begin to imagine what went on in the big guy’s brain, not when he could hardly think about anything other than the stars at the corner of his eyes.

“Pretty,” Grog said.

He moaned at the praise and arched into Grog’s touch. Grog promptly forced him face down onto the sofa, grabbed his hips, and fucked him so hard, Vax’s hands shook as he tried to hold himself up.

He grabbed Vax’s hair and pulled. “Isn’t this what you wanted? From the second you saw me at that bar, I fucking bet you were thinking about this.”

“Fuck, please, Grog!”

“Please what?”

“Shut up and fuck me already.” He held onto the armrest, panting.

“Now, why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Piece of fucking shit. Vax met his thrusts each time, even though his thighs were aching and his lips were dry. He couldn’t do it for long, though. Well, if he was going to cum first then he was going to put on a motherfucking show.

“Oh, fuck, Grog. Right there. There, so fucking good.” Vax moaned Grog’s name again and again, til his voice cracked. 

 “Shit, you’re killing me.” He squeezed Vax’s ass and groaned. Grog dug his fingertips in Vax’s skin and pulled his ass cheeks further apart. “Look at you, holy shit… Wish you could see how good my dick looks in you.”

In that moment, Vax couldn’t see much of anything. He gasped, clung to the sofa, and waited to come down from the high. He was getting sore. But speaking was so difficult. His lips parted, words tried to form, yet all that came out were pleas for more.

Grog pulled out. Vax really, really wanted to punch him.

“Turn around.”

It took him a moment (thanks to his shaking arms), but he got there. He growled, “What?”

“Calm your tits,” Grog said, stoking his dick, “I don’t wanna rough you up too much.”

“Oh, are you gonna be gentle with me?” The very idea of it was somewhat insulting. And frustrating. What an infuriating dickhead. He was 100% going to smash that TV.

“Nah. You just lie back and think about what I’m gonna when your 30 minutes is up.”

“Is that how long it takes for you to recover, big guy? I might get bored.”

Grog smirked. His eyes took on a maddening glint. He grabbed Vax’s hair. “No. That’s how long I’m giving you. I’m gonna have some fun in the meantime.”

* * *

 

He did expect to feel something when he woke up. Grog’s morning wood. Maybe a hangover. Possibly some muscle pain, definitely a sore asshole, an immediate need to wash his hair, and an inescapable desire to fuck Grog in the shower; all of these were possibilities his mind had mulled over as he fell asleep on top of Grog, covered in only a blanket.

A gun wasn’t on his list.

“Good morning,” Vax said, turning his head.

 ~~Whitey.~~ Percival (a more suitable name for his possible killer) pushed the gun against his skull. “No moving until you tell me why The Clasp is after Grog.”

Yeah, going to sleep with his back on display was a mistake.

Percival’s pyjamas – light blue with white stripes – were also a mistake, but Vax didn’t feel like pointing that out when there was a gun involved.

Well.

He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. “We’re not. We’re after info on The Herd ‘cause Kevdak is in town. You know who that is, right?”

“Grog mentioned him once when he was drunk, yes.”

“He’s probably in town to kill this guy, so you should get him the fuck out of here and get yourself some good locks and a lawyer.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Vax poked Grog’s chest. “I fucked him, didn’t kill him, haven’t destroyed his TV…”

“TV? What?” Percival shook his head. “Look, regardless of what you’re up to, I don’t feel comfortable having a criminal in my friend’s house-“

“Cabin.”

“Cabin, then. I’d appreciate it if you got your things and left.”

He looked down at Grog’s oddly comfortable chest and felt a surprising degree of reluctance. Then, the dug nudged his forehead. He rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Jeez. Give me a minute.”

He got up, winced, and began picking his clothes off the floor. Luckily, they were all close by.

“I’d appreciate it,” Vax said, putting on his jeans, “If you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Trust me; no one would believe me if I tried. They still don’t believe me when I tell them Grog fucked a nymph-“

“He what, now?”

“I don’t think ‘Grog banged a half-elf man from The Clasp on the sofa I bought him while I was sleeping in his bed’ would be taken seriously.”

“Did he seriously fuck a nymph?”

“Do I look like I’m lying?”

Vax squinted. “I actually can’t tell.”

He put on his shirt. Amazingly, Grog was still fast asleep and snoring up a storm. He looked kinda cute like that, with drool dripping down his chin and everything.

“I’d say it was nice meeting you, but I’d be lying.” Percival pulled his gun back and pointed at the door. “Will we be seeing you again?”

He quickly tied his shoe laces and, holding back a laugh, said, “Oh, you won’t be seeing me.” He opened the door, just a peek. “Have fun on your date, Whitey.”

“What did you just-“

Vax zipped out the door and darted into the bushes. Raindrops hit his face and he prayed it would wash his hair to a somewhat acceptable appearance. He hid in the shadow of a tree and watched Percival come out of the door, gun out, looking terribly confused. 

Now, how was he going to get home?

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more of this if you guys like it, 'cause there's a few things to tie up. Like will Vax ever destroy that goddamn TV? 
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://daisiesonice.tumblr.com/) if you wanna check out what the hell I'm doing with my life  
> 


End file.
